


Sometimes Life is Good

by zombiechick



Series: Taking Charge [2]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiechick/pseuds/zombiechick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a sequel to Pantry Revelations- Malcolm and Sam continue their, for want of a better term, courtship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Malcolm knew that, when he returned to the office at half past twelve, Sam would have gone home. It wasn't unusual for her to stay late to assist him. But, he'd been asked, rather ordered, to a dinner meeting which had led to drinks. When one was entertaining foreign dignitaries and politicians, the excuse of wanting to skive off for a shag wasn't on the approved list of reasons for early departure.

He was hoping that a little of the magic from earlier that day, that had made it possible for him to hold and touch a lovely young woman whom he cared for deeply would still be working. "Everyone knows the coach turns back into a fuckin' pumpkin at midnight," Malcolm growled when he found his office empty. 

Spying a small piece of bright green paper on his desk, that looked decidedly out of place, Malcolm stalked across his office space to find a note from Sam. He was grateful for the empty office; no one to see him grinning like a complete fuckin' idiot at her having thought of him in this way. No one ever left him cheery little notes like this.

Picking the Post-it up off of his desk, he read, in Sam's neat scrawl, "Call me when you get in. I don't care how late it is." It was signed with a little love heart and "S." Malcolm glanced around to make sure of his privacy before doing a little joyful fist pump. 

Glancing at his watch, he debated with himself as to whether or not he should actually call. She said the time didn't matter but, it seemed to Malcolm, who was always cynical of the sincerity of others, that that was just something people said. Did she really want to hear from him at this time of night? Malcolm chewed viciously at his lower lip, eying his phone, trying to decide. With a roar of frustration, before he could talk himself out of it, he quickly pressed the phone icon next to Sam's name. 

When it began to ring, Malcolm felt his stomach tie up in exquisite knots. Listening to the fourth tone, he was just about to hang up and curse himself out for being so fuckin' stupid, when he heard a sleepy sounding Sam mumble, "Hello?" in his ear. 

"Sam," Malcolm sighed, another stupidly huge grin overtaking his face. 

He could hear the sleepy smile in her voice when Sam answered, "Mmmm, Malcolm. I was just dreaming about you."

Malcolm groaned and leaned back in his chair, "Oh, that's not fair, love; don't say such things."

"Just telling the truth," Sam laughed quietly. He could hear her snuggle down into her blankets, a contented sigh practically caressing his ear.

"I didn't know if I should call....," Malcolm stated and then waited for her response.

"Don't be a fucking idiot, Malcolm," Sam chastised him, "I told you to call me; I wanted to hear your voice before I fell asleep."

"But you're already in bed?" Malcolm asked, his brogue becoming raspy and thick as he imagined Sam splayed out, comfortable, in pajamas, or no pajamas, warm beneath her duvet.

"I tried to stay awake," she explained. "I fell asleep reading a DoSAC brief."  
"That's fuckin' understandable," Malcolm chuckled. "So...," he said quietly as he picked up a Satsuma and rolled it in his hand, "I guess I'll let you get back to your kip."

"Alright," Sam murmured. 

He could hear that she was already halfway to sleep. "Wish I was there with ye," he murmured.

"Me too," she agreed sleepily. "See you in the morning, Malcolm."

"Yeah," Malcolm breathed, imagining how he would crawl in behind her and pull her warm body to his cold and tired frame. "Night, night."

After Sam rang off, Malcolm tossed his phone on his desk and wiped both hands down his face as he fell back in his chair, "Fuuuuuuck," he groaned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after. What's the Immigration Summit in Washington D.C. about? I have no idea. I am physically allergic to plot.

TTOI-TTOI-TTOI

Malcolm was rarely eager to get to Number 10. He, most often, felt a need to get there early to start erecting barricades against whatever shit storms had brewed over night. That Thursday morning though, he was actually eager; because of Sam. After their brief conversation on the phone the night before, Malcolm had barely slept. Sam had invaded his thoughts. The brief dreams he'd managed were peppered with images, sounds, tastes, and the feel of her skin. 

Striding into his office, Malcolm dug his fingernails into his palms to keep from grinning like a fuckin' idiot. He caught himself, more than once, almost saying "good morning" to some random cunt in the hallway.

When he saw that her desk was empty, he didn't go looking for Sam. He allowed the anticipation of seeing her to build while he organized his materials for the day. He knew that, eventually, she would walk in carrying his cup of coffee, and perhaps, another pile of materials. Malcolm left his door halfway open, willing himself not to stare toward the entrance like some kind of fuckin' puppy dog. Just as he caught sight of his door opening further, saw Sam's curvy frame enter holding his favorite cup, his phone rang.

She gave him a little smile as he growled obscenities at his phone. Picking it up off of his desk, he stabbed at the connect button and put it to his ear, rumbling a neutral greeting. When he realized it was the Prime Minister on the other end of the line, he began pacing around the office as he listened and fired back responses. 

Malcolm surreptitiously watched Sam as she picked up his coat and slung it over her shoulder. He saw her lean over the desk, perhaps a little too deep and a little too long, to reach for a file. Malcolm licked at his bottom lip, while continuing to keep up his end of the conversation with the PM, as his eyes lingered on the swell of Sam's hips, the roundness of her backside.

She straightened and threw a cheeky smile over her shoulder at him. Malcolm smiled back, his expression looking rather more hungry and wolf-like than hers, which made Sam chuckle quietly. The silence at the other end of the line finally made Malcolm realize he'd missed something. "Sorry, Boss," he explained, "nodded off there for a tick."

The PM cursed him good-naturedly and then repeated his previous statement. Sam watched as Malcolm's face fell instantly, "So I'll need to fly out later this morning?" Her mouth twitched into a little frown as she picked up Malcolm's dirty cup from the night before. She turned to leave the office, sweeping closer to him than was necessary, bumping him with a small swing of her hip, and heard Malcolm growl, "And I'll be taking Nicola Murray and Ollie Reeder from DoSAC? Uh huh, immigration summit. Two days? Right, I'll brief him this morning."

Malcolm hung up the phone and looked around to find that he was alone, "Sam. SAM!"

His PA sauntered back into his office, "Yes?" she asked, never ruffled by Malcolm bellowing her name, as was his custom.

"I'm sorry to ask you to do this but," he dug in his pocket and took out the keys to his flat, "I need a bag. We'll be flying out to Washington D.C. later today. Could you?"

"Of course," Sam answered him quietly and took the dangling keys from his hand.

"Sam, there's some dry cleaning that needs dropped off, too. Should have brought the fuckin' stuff with me this morning but," he arched an eyebrow at her, "I was distracted by other things."

She laughed quietly, "Shall I go do that now, then?"

"Yeah, yeah, get Elvis to take you 'round." She turned to leave and Malcolm threw out, "And, Sam?" She turned around expectantly, "Hurry back, love."

TTOI-TTOI-TTOI-TTOI

Spending part of his morning with Ollie Reeder, the oily little cunt, when feeling overly tired and distracted, did nothing for Malcolm's mood. Luckily, Ollie could take a verbal bollocking from Malcolm. It allowed the older man to work out some frustrations at being sent out of the country for two days when all he'd fuckin' like to do is hold up in his apartment with Sam for the next forty-eight hours doing all manner of filthy things to her, and having them done back to him. 

When Sam returned almost two hours later, Ollie was still lounging in one of Malcolm's chairs in that incredibly gangly and stupid way of his, trying to act as though he had any fuckin' control over what would happen in D.C. or what his stupid dozy cow of a boss would manage to fuck up. Malcolm looked up, his eyes still blazing from his most recent rant. Luckily Ollie turned to follow his gaze and so was unaware of the sweet little smile he threw at Sam. 

"I must not have gotten the memo," Ollie chuckled.

"What the fuck are you on about?" Malcolm growled.

Ollie pointed at Sam and then back at Malcolm. The older man kept a studiously neutral face while Ollie stuttered out an explanation for his attempt at humor, "She's wearing a maroon, uh, blouse and you've got a maroon tie on today, uh, Malcolm." Ollie cleared his throat and tried to pretend that he hadn't said anything about it, organizing the files on the table in front of him.

Malcolm smoothed out his tie, making eye contact with Sam. She had given it to him for Christmas the year before; it was a brighter color than he usually wore but he'd worn it for her today. He saw now that Sam's blouse was a matching color; he'd been too distracted earlier in the day to make note of it. But now he saw that it wasn't a blouse he'd noticed before; it was snugger than she usually wore. Malcolm swallowed hard when he saw that the top button was quite a bit lower than her typical attire.

"Alright then," Malcolm shouted toward Ollie, "we don't have to pretend that we enjoy each others company. Scuttle on back to your hole. And," he pointed a finger at Ollie, "make fuckin' sure that Nicola goes over those points. I don't want so much as a toe peaking over the fuckin' party line." Ollie mumbled assurances as he exited as quickly as was prudent.

"All done, Boss," Sam assured him as she draped a garment bag over the nearest chair and placed a small travel bag next to it.  
Malcolm took three quick strides across his office to shut the door and turned back around, "Thanks, love. Sorry about the domestic chore."

"No problem," Sam answered him, "gave me a chance to snoop around your flat." She smiled cheekily at Malcolm's pretended annoyance.

Walking over to her, and throwing a cautious look back at the door, he placed both hands on her hips and pulled her to him. He kissed her, softly at first, but Sam's arms wrapping around his neck, her fingers threading through his close-cropped hair, stoked the fire that had been burning in his belly all morning. Malcolm groaned as Sam thrust her tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss, her fingernails scoring his scalp. As she pressed her breasts against his chest, circling her hips to grind against him, Malcolm broke the kiss. "I have to get on my way," he panted.

"Call me later," she breathed quietly, dropping a kiss on his jaw.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some steamy phone calls while Malcolm is away.

After an exhausting afternoon, in which DoSAC, by some grace of God, managed to keep their mouth shut when necessary, and say the right fuckin' words when they opened them, Malcolm was finally able to get a bit of rest in his hotel room. It would be late in London, past midnight, but the lady had asked him to call and so he did. 

Sam picked up on the second ring this time, a fact that made Malcolm quite happy as it meant she'd been waiting for his call, "Hello, Malcolm," she smiled into the phone.

"Is this too late?" he asked quietly as he kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed in his hotel room.

"Well, you almost missed me," Sam admitted and gave a little yawn.

"Sorry," Malcolm grinned as he loosened his tie.

"Hoping to catch me in bed again?" Sam teased him. He could practically hear her stretching out on her own bed, thousands of miles away.

Malcolm chuckled, "It is a pleasant mental image; my life is pretty fuckin' short on those, love."

Sam laughed quietly, "How did you find your bag?"

Malcolm frowned, not sure what Sam was getting at, "It was fine; thanks again."

"I couldn't find everything that I meant to pack for you," Sam explained. "I couldn't locate a certain small article of clothing."

Malcolm grinned and gave a deep, rumbling, chuckle, "I had them with me," he explained. Reaching into the pocket of his trousers, he extricated Sam's knickers that he'd confiscated the day before.

"Weren't you worried about TSA?" she asked.

"Didn't think they'd notice," he answered her, "at least I wasn't wearing them."

Sam laughed loudly. "I did want to let you know one thing about your dry cleaning," she began.

"They didn't fuckin' ruin one of my shirts did they?" Malcolm moaned.

"No," Sam assured him, "but, one of your shirts didn't make it to the cleaners."

Malcolm was confused, "Did you lose it somehow? Which one?"

Sam reassured him, "Thanks for the vote of confidence. No, it's the blue Gitman Brothers, but it's fine; you'll get it back...eventually."

Malcolm groaned when he realized what Sam was telling him. He leaned back against the pillows, his eyes sliding closed, as he pictured Sam wearing nothing but his shirt, her hair down, her legs bare. "Is that all you're wearing, then?" 

"Well, yes," Sam answered him, "I don't usually wear pajamas at all but I couldn't resist; it still smells like you."

Malcolm chuckled, "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment, love."

"It is," she assured him. "I don't know that I'll ever get you in my bed so I'll have to be happy with an article of clothing."

"I'm only here for two days," he told her as he adjusted his trousers, "and then, as soon as I can, I'll be right fuckin' there."

"Looking forward to it," she replied huskily.

TTOI TTOI TTOI TTOI TTOI TTOI

"Hello," Sam answered Malcolm's call the next afternoon.

"Still at the office?" Malcolm asked as he made himself comfortable on a bench in a small park near his hotel.

"Well, the boss is away so I've actually left on time today. I'm just grabbing a curry and then heading home."

"Cheeky," Malcolm laughed quietly. "Gonna have a quiet night in, love?"

"Going out with some friends actually. Overpriced drinks, dancing, that sort of thing."

Malcolm sat up a bit straighter, "Some friends? Gonna search out some tall, youth, with thick hair, wearing a too-tight t-shirt?"

"Well," Sam smiled, "I have been desperate for a proper shag for the last couple of days so...,"

Malcolm growled a little, grumbling into the phone and refusing to rise to Sam's bait.

Sam laughed, "Didn't think you'd be the jealous type, Malcolm."

"Yeah, yeah," Malcolm waved away her teasing. "I'll be home late on Saturday and I'll probably be dead on my feet. You free Sunday?"

"The better question is, are you free on Sunday?"

"The boss has ordered me to take the day off," he assured her. "I'll be all yours."

"Lucky me," Sam murmured. Malcolm could hear her smug little smile on the phone.

"So what are you going to do with me, once you have me?" Malcolm asked quietly as he glanced around, always on the lookout for nosy fuckin' reporters. 

"The first item on the agenda is to get you naked."  
Malcolm sputtered a bit and Sam could practically hear the blush in his voice, "Right to the point, love."

"You've always got so many layers on. I've been planning how I'll unwrap you. First your coat, fling it over the nearest chair, then slowly unloosening your tie, toss that behind me. Popping the buttons on your shirt open, one by one, placing kisses on each bit of your chest that appears."

Malcolm moaned low into the phone, "You have got a real way with words, love. You can even make undressing this old fuckin' carcass sound sexy."

"Slide my hands beneath your undershirt, dragging my nails over your skin. And when you moan, and throw your head back a bit, I'll lick up your neck." Sam chuckled, quite proud of herself when she heard Malcolm's heavy breathing.

"Fuck," he breathed.

"That comes after I have you sprawled out in my bed, crawling on top of you, straddling your hips with my..."

"Sam," Malcolm hissed, "I've got to go, love; fuckin' cunt-faced twat on approach."

"With these constant interruptions, I'll never get to shag you," Sam answered him.

Sam could tell that the unwanted guest was close enough to hear their conversation when he put on his friendly Malcolm voice, "We will definitely get that taken care of this weekend; Sunday at the latest. I guarantee I will personally deal with the situation."

"Malcolm, you're such an accomplished seducer," Sam laughed. "Alright then, bye." Malcolm growled a goodbye and hung up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm finally makes it home, and into bed, but jet lag can be a real bitch. Next chapter will, most likely, be the last.

True to his word, Malcolm arrived home incredibly late on Saturday night or, rather, early Sunday morning. His eyes bleary with jet lag, his mind wrecked from fighting off, or coaching, wankers, whiners, and utter twats, he managed to get into his flat. Slamming and locking the door behind him, he barely had the power to toss his bags to the floor before falling, face first, on his sofa.

Normally, he would have fallen asleep immediately but he sensed that something was different. The usual crushingly lonely silence of his flat didn't seem so lonely. Peeling himself off the couch, Malcolm tore off his coat and tossed it over the back. He had a guess as to who was waiting for him but, ever the cynic, didn't completely believe his senses. 

Rounding the corner of the hallway, he saw that his bedroom door was open. Sam lay asleep under his duvet, curled up and breathing quietly. The usual hard lines of his face softened visibly as Malcolm's mouth drew up into a sweetly grateful smile. He couldn't remember the last time someone had been waiting around to welcome him home.

He was as quiet as he could be, taking off his shoes and socks, stripping out of his suit until he was clad in nothing more than a dark pair of boxers and his undershirt. Sam was nestled on the side of the bed that he normally occupied but he'd forgive her that. Pulling the duvet gently away from the bed, he slid in beside her and sighed contentedly. Assuming that Sam wouldn't mind being woken up, Malcolm reached out a hand and scooped her toward him. The warm, soft, curves of her body were the panacea that he imagined they would be.

"Hello, Goldilocks," he murmured as Sam blinked her eyes, waking up slowly.

Sam's hand slid back to find Malcolm's body and she complained, "I thought I got to undress you."

Malcolm chuckled, "Tomorrow, if you like, I'll get all suited up. You can spend all the time in the world undressing me."

Sam smiled, turning over to place a soft kiss on Malcolm's lips, "Welcome home," she murmured sleepily. Her hand found its way to Malcolm's thigh and began stroking softly. 

He groaned with desire but then, biting his lip, asked, "I know that I'm in fuckin' danger of having my bollocks and cock repossessed when I say this but, do you think we could just, you know..."

Sam laughed quietly, "Refusing to use the 'c' word, Malcolm? Are you asking if we can just cuddle tonight?"

Malcolm groaned with embarrassment, "There was no cause to use that fuckin' term."

She smiled and turned over, trapping his arm to pull it across her and then scooting back against him, "I promise, your secret is safe with me."

Malcolm yawned mightily, "Don't worry, after I've gotten a good kip in, I'll shag ya something fierce."

Sam laughed again and kissed Malcolm's shoulder, "You'd better,"

"Might have to call in sick on Monday; might not be able to walk afterward," Malcolm continued drowsily.

"I'll hold you to that," Sam answered him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I'm aware of the probable improbability of the characters' stamina in this chapter. But, hey, it's fiction!

Malcolm woke up to find the room completely lit by sunlight. He normally woke up in the dark wee hours of the morning. He couldn't remember the last time that he had slept so well, or so long. Shading his eyes with one hand, he reached out the other to find an empty bed. He was a bit disappointed; he'd had lots of plans on how to wake Sam that morning.

Malcolm's ears perked up when he heard the sort of small noises coming from the kitchen that signaled someone was making tea. Malcolm rolled over, climbed out of bed, and quickly padded to the bathroom. Sam was obviously making herself at home so he had time to shower and knock off the dust from the road. 

Walking into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, he found Sam leaning against the surface, reading the paper while she idly stirred her mug of tea. "Now that is a beautiful fuckin' sight," Malcolm commented as he gazed at Sam's half-naked form. "Are you planning on slowly appropriating every one of my shirts?" he asked.

Sam set the paper down, "Haven't decided yet," she answered him. Sauntering toward him, Sam took in Malcolm's undershirt and sleep pants. "I thought that we had an agreement," she chided.

Malcolm chuckled, "Later; I thought it'd be nice to just lounge around a bit." He reached for Sam and pulled her to him for a soft kiss. 

Threading her fingers through his hair, Sam found that it was still damp; the slight curls wrapped themselves around her fingers. Malcolm tasted like toothpaste and the stubble on his face scratched her deliciously as they kissed. 

He had intended to sit down and have breakfast with her, even talk a bit. It had sounded like a really pleasant fucking morning which wasn't a word he normally used to describe the start of his day. But, Sam obviously had other ideas. Grabbing one of Malcolm's hands, she placed it on her breast. He groaned into the kiss as he felt her nipple quickly harden against his palm. He stroked her breast gently, loving the warmth and weight of it in his hand, while his other hand slid down her back to cup her ass.

"Fuck," Malcolm groaned when he found that Sam hadn't bothered to put on any knickers that morning. Letting his hand slide over the smooth skin of her lower back and ass, Malcolm moved one leg between her thighs. He stuttered with reaction when he felt Sam grind her wet sex against his leg; her heat and juices marking his pajama pants.

Sam's hands left Malcolm's head and, grabbing him by the shoulders, pushed him down onto the nearest kitchen chair. Malcolm dropped his hands and looked to Sam for directions. "Hold onto the legs of the chair," Sam demanded.

Malcolm complied and then watched as Sam moved down to unbutton the fly of his pajamas. His shirt, that she wore, gaped open nicely when she leaned over and he smiled happily at the lovely view. He threw back his head and cursed when Sam's hand encircled his hardened shaft, drawing him out of his pajamas. Sam, oh so lightly, stroked Malcolm's length. She gave several happy little sounds at the size and thickness of him; Malcolm's cock was hot and weighty in her palm. 

Pulling the tails of the shirt that she wore out of the way, Sam straddled Malcolm's lap. She held him lightly in her hand and dragged the head of his cock along her wet folds, teasing them both, while she held Malcolm's gaze. Her thumb traced the underside of his shaft, painting it with the moisture from her hot sex. Malcolm swallowed hard several times, his eyes widening, willing himself to hold Sam's gaze, loving the intensity of this intimacy.

Feeling a familiar tingling in his toes Malcolm croaked, "Sam, please."

She gave him a triumphant smile, one that made his heart beat faster, before placing her hands on his shoulders and slowly lowering herself onto him. Sam groaned at the sensation of being filled and Malcolm sighed gratefully at the warmth of her that surrounded him. When he made a move to remove his hands from the chair legs Sam stopped him. "Just leave them there," she panted as she rode him, ending each stroke with a grind against his hips, "this time I'm in charge."

Malcolm craned his neck toward her, begging to be kissed, "Whatever you say, love," he panted. Sam caught his mouth in a fervent kiss, one hand gripping the back of his neck while the other slid up under his t-shirt. Malcolm hissed with pleasure when her short fingernails scored his skin, loving the idea of being marked by Sam. 

She moved on him in a steady pace, rolling her hips. Her sighs and moans of satisfaction were like music to him; filling the kitchen with such happiness that Malcolm was tempted to laugh out loud. Breaking the kiss, Sam unbuttoned the front of her shirt so that it gaped open. Malcolm gazed at the soft curves of her body, groaning happily as Sam grabbed the back of his head and pulled him to her breast. Using his lips and tongue, Malcolm did all that he could to worship her breasts; pulling lovely noises from Sam as he mouthed and sucked and bit lightly on her nipples.

Sam worked her sex around Malcolm's cock, squeezing unmercifully. He knew that he wouldn't last long with what she was putting him through but she was in charge so he kept his mouth busy with her lovely breasts. Sam reached down to tug on his left hand, pulling it from the chair. Malcolm purred with happiness at the added intimacy of her fingers wrapping around his own. Sam moved their joined hands together until his fingers lay flush against her sex and showed Malcolm how she wanted him to touch her.

Continuing to ride him, Sam buried her hands in Malcolm's hair. His mouth still busy at her breasts, Sam leaned down and whispered directly into Malcolm's ear. She whispered filthy and lovely things that she wanted to do to him with such incredible detail that Malcolm could picture each act vividly in his mind. A noise somewhere between a whimper and a groan passed Malcolm's lips muffled against Sam's breast as she suddenly bit down hard on his shoulder, groaning her release.

Her sex gripping him rhythmically coupled with her teeth sinking into his flesh quickly sent him over the edge. Forgetting himself, both Malcolm's hands flew to Sam's hips, sliding back to squeeze her ass as he came with several jerks of his hips, his head thrown back against the chair behind him.

Malcolm came to a few moments later, Sam's happy laughter gracing his ears. Blinking his eyes with surprise, he grinned happily at her, "Fuck, love," he stated unnecessarily.

"Agreed," Sam answered him. Standing up from the kitchen chair, she gave him a soft kiss on the side of Malcolm's still grinning mouth. "I'm off for a shower," she announced as she shimmied out of his dress shirt, tossing it on the table, and sauntering naked out of the room.  
TTOI-TTOI-TTOI-TTOI-TTOI

A few minutes later found Sam pressed against the wall of the shower, legs spread, Malcolm leaning against her wet and soapy back, bracing himself with one hand against the tiled wall. Several fingers of his other hands were busy thrusting into Sam's wet sex. He placed kisses and small bites along her shoulders and neck while he fingered her.

Gripping Malcolm's fingers with her cunt, Sam moaned happily and reached back to thread her fingers through his hair. "Can you finish like this, love?" Malcolm asked, his brogue thick with desire.

"Faster," Sam answered him.

Malcolm groaned happily, loving the commanding tone in Sam's voice as he added a third finger and sped up the thrusting of his arm. A few minutes later, Sam's hand shot out to cover Malcolm's which was braced against the wall. Her other hand moved back to grip Malcolm's hip as a string of grateful whimpers came from her mouth followed by a low panting moan.

TTOI-TTOI-TTOI-TTOI-TTOI

After breakfast, Sam dragged Malcolm back to his bedroom. "Seems a bit conventional," he complained good naturedly. 

"I didn't realize we were competing in some sort of contest for originality," Sam laughed as she pushed Malcolm back on the bed and knelt on the carpet between his legs.

When Malcolm saw what her intentions were, he grabbed several pillows to prop behind his head, "I want to fuckin' watch this," he explained to her as Sam took his quickly hardening cock from his pajama bottoms.

She laughed quietly and then, keeping eye contact, sucked the head of Malcolm's cock between her warm lips. He could feel his eyes threatening to close from the sheer pleasure of Sam's warm mouth but he willed himself to not break the gaze that they were sharing; the intimacy of it was like bolts of desire that shot directly to his shaft. 

Sam added a hand to her technique, circling the base of Malcolm's erection and sliding rhythmically so that she stroked his shaft with her fingers when her mouth retreated to nibbling on his head. Malcolm bit at his lower lip, groaning at the sight before him. Sam pulled at the waist of his pajama bottoms, sliding them lower so that her free hand could stroke Malcolm's hips and thighs. 

Having thoroughly wet the shaft, Sam was able to slide her lips to the root of him. Malcolm could feel the head of his cock being massaged by the muscles of Sam's throat. That was his undoing, he threw his head back against the pillows and let out a long moan of pleasure followed by some particularly colorful expletives that only encouraged Sam further. 

Keeping the touch of her fingers light on his shaft, Sam increased the pressure of her lips and tongue until she tasted the familiar change in flavor that signaled Malcolm's climax. He reached down to tap her on the shoulder, giving her a bit of warning. Sam grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of her head, allowing him to give in to the desire to guide her movements.

Malcolm's toes actually cracked as they curled in the carpet, his hips thrusting up into Sam's welcoming mouth, Malcolm bellowed his release into the stillness of the bedroom.

His body limp as a jellyfish, Malcolm lounged back against the bed, staring at the ceiling stupidly, recovering. Sam stood up, an extremely self-satisfied grin on her face, before laying down on the bed next to him. Wrapping her arms around him and pulling Malcolm to her for a cuddle, she placed soft kisses on his neck and jawline.

"I don't even want to know where you fuckin' learned to do that, love." Sam opened her mouth to speak and Malcolm shushed her, "No, please; don't even fuckin' tell me." They both laughed and moved up on the bed to get more comfortable under the duvet.

TTOI-TTOI-TTOI-TTOI-TTOI

Sam woke an hour later to find that the blankets had been thrown back and Malcolm's head was buried between her legs. Reaching down, she moved her fingers restlessly through his hair as she spread her thighs further to give him better access. She felt Malcolm's eyes on her and looked down to see his hungry gaze studying her for reaction. Smiling seductively, Sam reached up and palmed both of her breasts, rolling the weight of them in her hands, fingers twisting and tugging at her nipples.

She could feel Malcolm's groan against her sex as the flat of his tongue continued to stroke her. He slowly slid two fingers inside of her, filling her, as he pulled her clit in between his lips, sucking gently. Finding a particularly sweet spot inside of her, Sam was surprised by the suddenness of her orgasm. She saw Malcolm wince as a particularly hard thrust of Sam's hips crushed his nose a bit. Sam couldn't be bothered with it as a series of pleasurable waves crashed over her body and left her panting.

Malcolm sat back on his heels to tug his t-shirt off his lean body and throw it to the floor. Next he removed his pajama bottoms; they joined his t-shirt on the carpet, "Like my nose isn't fucking ugly enough already?" he chortled as Sam snuggled luxuriously in the afterglow of her climax. 

She laughed and moved to take off her own shirt, throwing it to the floor, before taking him into her arms. Wrapping both curvy legs around Malcolm's hips, she pulled him to her. She was so wet that Malcolm easily slid home. They both stuttered with reaction as Malcolm's sparse chest hair rubbed against Sam's nipples, making them harden still further.

Wrapping her arms around his neck for leverage, Sam pulled him down into a deep and thorough kiss as her hips met him thrust for thrust. Grinding against each other, holding each other tightly, loving the contact of warm skin against warm skin, the room was filled with their happy sighs and moans. Malcolm placed his mouth close to Sam's ear as he continued to move inside of her, "What is this, Sam? Is this..."

Sam nuzzled her soft cheek against Malcolm's and kissed his jawline, "It's...something, Malcolm," she sighed.

Malcolm sped up his movements, doing his best to elicit as many noises from Sam as he could, "I can fuckin' live with that," he grunted.

Words were forgotten as they both relentlessly pushed the other to a climax. Sam gripping Malcolm's cock with her sex, his fingers sliding over her hard clit and painting her nipples with the juices, until they both came apart, clinging to the other as they rode out their pleasure.

TTOI-TTOI-TTOI-TTOI-TTOI

"Love, would you brink me a cup of coffee? Very black, please," Malcolm called from the living room in the early hours of that evening.

Sam sauntered in a few minutes later, carrying the requested beverage, "I'm used to that being a barked statement rather than a sweet question," she smiled. Sam handed him the coffee and then sat down at the other end of the couch.

Malcolm deposited his feet in Sam's lap, "I'll have ta be careful; you're gonna make me fuckin' soft," he chuckled. "Those wankers at Number Ten will have me for their fuckin' tea."

"I'm sure you'll do fine, love," Sam answered him.

TTOI-TTOI-TTOI-TTOI-TTOI-

Sam was going over Malcolm's schedule for the week when she heard the man himself throw open his office door. It banged against the wall and bounced back a few inches before being shoved open by a retreating figure. She couldn't remember ever having seen Ollie moving so fast as he speed walked out Malcolm's door. 

A disembodied brogue chased him down the hallway,"...that's right, scurry, scurry back to your fucking hole! And, you tell Nikola, that, if she ever pulls shite like that again, I'll have her entrails made into a tailored fuckin' dinner jacket!! You, you don't have enough guts to stretch out for a fuckin' cummerbund!!"

Sam chuckled into her cup of coffee as Malcolm poked his head into her office, "No chance of going soft," she smiled.

Malcolm pointed down the hallway where Ollie had disappeared, "I have to admit, I was pretty fuckin' proud of that particular mental image." He slipped her a saucy wink and swaggered back to his office.


End file.
